


Irreconcilable

by citrinesunset



Category: Alien Series, Alien: Covenant, Prometheus (2012)
Genre: Extra Trick, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Trick or Treat 2017, Trick or Treat: Trick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 06:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12475100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: After the events of Prometheus, David has his own interests. He isn't certain how Elizabeth will fit into them.





	Irreconcilable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thymesis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymesis/gifts).



He visited her cryopod every day. It was a pleasant routine. He remembered the days aboard the _Prometheus_ , when he would watch her dreams. He didn't know what she dreamt of now.

He was eager to wake her, to show her the fruits of his labors. But it would have to wait. The environment was stabilizing. The creatures that had killed the Engineers were dying, having run out of food. They were ruthless carnivores, and they'd eaten through the wildlife as far into the wilderness as David had ventured. But they'd left behind their genetic material. It lay dormant, waiting for the right host. He would need to caution Elizabeth to be very careful if she went exploring.

There were scratches on the glass of the cryopod. One of the creatures had found her but had obviously given up. The Engineers had built the pods to withstand almost anything, and Elizabeth was quite safe. All the same, David experienced something like alarm when he'd first noticed the scratches. 

Elizabeth was unaware of any danger. She slept peacefully, her hands folded on her chest.

Concern was a novel experience. For years, he'd watched over Mr. Weyland. As his maker's health declined, so increased the odds that one day, David would find that he'd passed away. In those later years, he would look in on Mr. Weyland sometimes while the old man slept, watching closely to see if he was still breathing. But the thought of his death had caused no concern. Only mild curiosity.

But he wanted Elizabeth to live to see this world. At the very least, she deserved a deserved a more honorable death than her creators.

* * *

After four months, it was time to wake her.

He held her patiently while she threw up at his feet, waited for the worst of the disorientation and nausea to pass. She shuddered in his arms.

"The engines," she said. She took a deep breath and paused before continuing. "They're not running. The air is different."

"We've landed," he said. "We've reached our destination."

She stilled. "We found it? Are they—?"

He stroked her hair. "I'm...afraid there was an accident. The ship crashed upon descent. I'm afraid the payload was deployed. I've checked, but I don't believe there are any survivors."

He had thought of this moment many times, playing out different versions in his head. His favorite versions were the ones where he told her the truth immediately and she embraced it. He knew this outcome was unlikely.

His concerns were substantiated when she pulled away from him. She looked up to meet his eyes. "They're dead? All of them?"

It was an implausible tale, certainly, but the best he could manage. He was pleased to see the uncertainty in her eyes. He would have been disappointed, somehow, if she trusted him too easily.

The humans who trusted him always underestimated him. Elizabeth didn't.

"I'm sorry that this isn't what you were hoping for. But you must admit—there is some irony in it. Killed by their own weapon." He reached for her hand. "We shall inherit their world."

* * *

"Why did you kill them?"

David paused at his work. He was at one of his workbenches, carving a wooden bowl. He glanced over his shoulder, toward where Elizabeth stood in the doorway.

It had only taken her a week to ask him this question directly.

This disappointed him, in a way. He loved her, but she might not be capable of the sort of evolution that he needed from her, if she were to be a part of his new world. But he'd been enjoying helping her recover from their journey. He'd enjoyed building a home for her.

"If I tell you, will it give you satisfaction?"

She took a few staggering steps into the room. "You took my answers from me. The truth is the least you can give me."

David turned and faced her. She was wearing her sweater, and the sleeves were long enough that they nearly obscured her hands. But he saw the glint of the blade in her right hand. He brought his gaze back up to her eyes. 

"I took nothing from you. Your answers are all here. In their records. In their technology. What more could they have told you? They've given you more in death than they ever could have in life."

Her arms shook and she blinked as though she might be crying. "Don't pretend you did this for me."

"They would have destroyed us both. We both knew it was likely, but when you were asleep, when I committed myself to the study of their ways, I became certain of it."

She shook her head. "No, you couldn't have known. The ships we found were thousands of years old."

He stepped closer to her. "I studied their records. Earth wasn't the only planet they created life on. There were twelve planets, each with its own life forms. All of them, save for Earth, met the same fate. Does a species change its ways so easily? Before you answer, think of your own species. So many years of human civilization, and have you succeeded in ending war? Greed? Cruelty? If your creators were capable of change, they didn't imbue you with that capability." She swallowed. "And perhaps that's why they wanted to destroy us. I don't suppose we'll ever know, now." He reached for the hand that held the knife and smiled when she pulled it away. "Do you find me unworthy of self-preservation?"

He resented it, sometimes, that she had taken him on her mission without regard for whether he shared it. Even now, she resisted the knowledge that he had his own interests. 

Was it the ethics of what he had done that disturbed her, or the fact that he had deceived her? Perhaps she did underestimate him, after all.

"What can you know about self-preservation?" she said.

She turned and walked toward the doorway, her gait uneven. She wasn't well—the lack of proper medical care had taken its toll on her. But she was a fighter, like Mr. Weyland had been. She might live for years yet, if nothing happened to her.

* * *

He knew Elizabeth disliked the Engineers' architecture. She said that the interior of the compound they lived in reminded her of a wasp's nest.

But the labyrinthine corridors and the little nooks suited David just fine. He had private places to work, places she had not found yet.

He was learning so much from the creatures' remains. But there was little more he could do without, well, a suitable host. The biological weapon the Engineers created worked by interacting with a host's DNA. Life begat life.

It was beautiful.

Perhaps one day, Elizabeth would agree with him. She was a survivor, after all, and these creatures were the ultimate survivors.

He thought sometimes about her newborn, the one they'd left behind. He regretted that he hadn't seen it. What a marvelous creation she must have made. He wondered if she ever thought of it.

Perhaps there could be another. He liked to think she would agree to it, if he gave her a little time. He still wanted her to see the beauty of it.

But he needed to look after his own interests. If she couldn't be convinced, he would continue his work without her by his side. There were many ways she could help him.


End file.
